Love. Devoted and conditional
It’s FreeForAll Monday. Today’s deep thoughts and bon mots involve Pink, Ray, One Eye and the notion of conditional loyalty. Eight bucks gets you a month of similar brilliance, 5 days a week. Take a chance, kids. You only live once. Enjoy.
*
Two summers ago, I had The Talk with my best old ex-friend Ray, a guy I knew well and sometimes hated.*
“Ray, I have some bad news.’’
We sat together on the brick patio above the familiar, wide expanse of green, site of many happy days and even a few triumphs. The good times were a distant memory now and our parting was inevitable.
“I’ve thought on it, Ray. Long and hard,’’ I said. “I have to let you go.’’
Ray was emotionless, stoic as always. I’d said a lot of unkind things about him over the seasons. Hurtful things, exploding with words I’d never say around my kids. Ray could peeve me.
Peeve me, I say.
What I could never say about Ray was that his emotions betrayed him. He was a rock, impervious to the ups and downs of our journey. He was forged of steel, as it were. He was always the same, even now in this sad instant.
“Ray, my good friend Neil Sedaka once said, “Breaking up is hard to do,’’ I continued. “But we had a deal from the day we met. I’m good to you, you’re good to me. It was purely a working arrangement that somehow I let stray. I’m sorry about that, Ray. I like you. But business is business.’’
Ray understood. Or seemed to. He stood ramrod straight, incapable of speech.
The initial success had given way to a series of failures. Easy tasks eluded Ray, with what seemed a stubborn willfullness. Production slipped, morale died, the work ceased being fun. Our job together demanded precision by both boss and employee. I did my part. I read the manuals, I trained my mind in the ways of positivity. It wasn’t me who sucked.
I told Ray that nothing in life was guaranteed and that actions have consequences. I explained that just because on our worst days I would literally drag him around the workplace, it was nothing personal. Only a way of reminding him who was boss.
“I’ve given you more chances than I gave my first wife,’’ I said. **
I told Ray I still believed in him. I thought a little time off would do him some good. “Consider this a time out,’’ I said to Ray.
Then I took him home and stuffed him in a bag in the basement.
Ray’s replacement was young and shiny and informed by the current technology. He’d been lolling in a warehouse, waiting for his first real job. He was eager to please. He had a big perfectly circular eye in his forehead.
I said to him, “You don’t get a second chance to make a first impression,’’ which I thought was witty, wise and quite possibly very original on my part. “You have big shoes to fill. You’re good to me, I’m good to you. Life has consequences and blahblahblah.
The new guy’s perfectly circular eye stared straight up at me, unblinking. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,’’ I said. *** And it was. We laughed, we cried, we saw the country together. Florida, Arizona, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia. Goshen Township.
It was great until it wasn’t. The New Guy got a little too comfortable, which led to him getting sloppy. I tried everything to get him right: We had long talks about responsibility and character and pride in performance. At night, I read to him, from the works of Phil Mickelson, Dave Pelz, Harvey Penick and Shivas Irons.
His eye never blinked. (In another bolt of inspiration, I called him One-Eye and, occasionally, Unocchio.) He seemed to be paying rapt attention.
Alas, the poor performance continued, forcing me last night to make another agonizing decision.
“No-no-no!’’ One-Eye pleaded. “Not the basement! I’ll do anything! Please, Doc, one more chance!’’
I wiped a tear from my eye and slammed him into the basement bag. When it comes to my golf game, I can be a heartless bastard. “If your time ever comes again,’’ I said to Unocchio, “be ready.’’
As of today, Ray is back in the bag. I rescued him from a life of anonymity more than a decade ago, liberating him from a big plastic trash can jammed with used putters at Play It Again Sports. Ray cost me 5 bucks.
Ray’s full name is Ray Cook because, duh, Ray Cook designed him.
From RayCook.com:
Inspired by the physics and aerodynamics classes he took while attending college in Spearfish, S.D. through the Air Force, Ray realized that slight vibrations in metal tuning forks provide more feel. As a result, he crafted the first aluminum putter with grooves. With this simple change, Ray Cook revolutionized the way that putters are manufactured to this day. Throughout the 60’s and up until the late 80’s, Ray Cook putters dominated both the PGA and LPGA tours.
Between 1962 and 1964, both Bob Hope and Bing Crosby proudly carried Ray Cook putters in their golf bags.
Back in the bag again.
If it’s good enough for those guys. . .
I fetched Ray from the basement bag. He had some cobwebs on him, but other than that. . .
“Welcome back, Ray,’’ I said to him.
“Screw you,’’ Ray said. The first words I’d ever heard him speak.
I like a little spunk.
We’re gonna play a few holes today, after I get off work at Hickory Woods. I expect only good things. I accept nothing less. Ray understands this. We go back a ways.
OH, YEAH. . .
* A Jim Croce line from “Operator’’
** A line generally credited to the late Orioles manager Earl Weaver
*** A Humphrey Bogart line from Casablanca.
Now, then. . .
INSIDIOUS. . . USA Today has a story about the frightening realities of sports gambling, including the crazy-dangerous threats players receive.
"You hear it all, man," Arizona Diamondbacks closer Paul Sewald told USA TODAY Sports. "You blow a save, you don’t come through, you get it all. “(Expletive) you. You suck. You cost me all of this money. “(Expletive) you. (Expletive) your family. I’m going to kill you and then kill your family.’
"It gets ugly really quickly. It’s scary.’’
MLB’s rules include this:
"No betting lines on player-specific performance or other player-specific betting-related information may be displayed on in-stadium videoboards or other in-stadium signage during a game or during pre-game warm-ups."
There is no such ban on in-game TV broadcasts. Most teams, including the Reds, have in-game parlay updates, so we degenerates at home can be reminded of our action. As if we weren’t following it anyway.
USA Today quotes Arizona 1B Christian Walker:
"It’s not a situation anymore where you place a bet before the game, and then you’re at the mercy of it (the bet) the whole game. It’s real time as innings are unfolding and they make little prop bets.’’
Baseball will never outlaw gambling. Too much money involved. Maybe MLB could cool it with all the ads and in-game crapola. If it cared. Which I’m guessing it does not.
BECAUSE YOU WANT MORE CAITLIN CLARK, YEAH? USA Basketball did not pick her for the women’s Olympic team heading to Paris this summer. Instant controversy, again.
It’s interesting how someone so seemingly humble and good-natured can attract controversy like flies to a pie. Maybe I’ve missed all her misbehavior since. . . ever. It’s possible I’ve overlooked some outrageous stuff she has said or a cheap shot she has landed.
“I'm going to be rooting them on to win gold. I was a kid that grew up watching the Olympics, so it will be fun to watch them. "Honestly, no disappointment. It just gives me something to work for’’ was Clark’s reaction to the Olympic snub.
Wow, someone call the PR people and tell them to tell Clark to zip it.
The world’s going insane. Yes, it is.
(NON) SCREAMIN’ JOHN. . . Sadak stayed laudably mum Saturday, when Justin Wilson recorded his first save in 5 seasons by getting the better of the Cubs’ Mike Tauchman in a delightfully taut Reds W.
In a perfect moment for John to be Screamin’, John let the action do the hyperventilating. Good show.
PITCHING, PITCHING, PITCHING. . . It’s oversimplifying to suggest starting pitching is the key to life. But only a little. So. . .
When it comes to Big 3s, who has the best SPs in the Central? We limit it to Best 3s, because in October, any starter who’s not great will be a middle reliever.
Nick Lodolo (Redreporter.com)
The Reds are gaining on everyone.
Lodolo, Abbott, Greene. Who’s better? Milwaukee?
Peralta is very good, Colin Rea has been better than average. After that, it’s mix-n-match. Edge: Reds.
St. Louis: Sonny Gray is the best in the division. Kyle Gibson and Lance Lynn are older than flannel unis, but they know how to pitch. Edge: Slight to St. Louis.
Cubs: Imanaga is showing ace-like tendencies, but Steele and Assad are eh. Slight to Cincinnati.
Pirates: Mitch Keller and two children, Jared Jones and Paul Skenes. If we were talking potential, MPWS would be the class of the Central. But only Keller comes with a track record and it’s not yet ace-worthy. Edge: Reds, for now.
So, according to me, the Reds and Looie should have some fun in September. But how do I explain the Brewers?
OG LOVES PINK. . . Until Sunday night, I couldn’t name you one Pink tune. I couldn’t pick Pink out of a lineup of 10 women if the other nine were wearing black.
Then I saw her on 60 Minutes. Wow.
Liked her music, loved her words.
Nice job, Doc. She’s only been around a couple decades.
Yeah? OG had no clue. In concert, she hangs from a wire and sings upside down. She’s a lifetime striver who seems somehow lacking the entitlement gene so prevalent in entertainers worth seven zeroes. She takes no crap.
She says stuff like this: “Why can’t we ride ‘til the wheels fall off?’’
Why, indeed. I love that. I wished I’d written it.
TRIP REPORT. . . Made it a local roadie Saturday. Good choice. Ate lunch at Cartridge Brewing, just off the Loveland bike trail near Maineville. We’d been there many times, but never inquired about the condos, apartments and airbnb that now occupy the old bullet factory.
Impossibly cool.
Floor-to-ceiling windows, lofty spaces, close enough to civilization to be convenient, still seemingly Nowhere.
(Courtesy Creekside Cigar Co.)
From there, we happened upon Creekside Cigar Co. It’s a brand new cigar bar also up Route 22 in Maineville. The place is a deluxe cigar lounge, plush with cushy chairs and couches and enough TVs to keep Sports Guy amused. There’s also outside seating on a deck that looks like it’s in a treehouse. Very good cigar selection as well. TML is going back soon. He recommends you ckitout.
We finished the wander at DVD, a new brewery just off the 275 Loveland/Indian Hill exit. It’s an old car wash that the owners made into a beer place. Garage doors. Expansive beer selection, nice bar, big TVs, no pretense. Five minutes from my house. TML sez ckitout.
WOW. Quality stuff here today, people. Whee, me. ****
TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . Among my Southern Rock favorites, these guys aren’t the Allmans or Skynyrd. But very listenable. Here’s their best effort, IMO. Better than the Classics IV original.
**** Muhammad Ali poetry.
Doc, I too have been recently turned on to Pink. Like Lady Gaga, she's a perfectionist that is a grinder. Speaking of Grinders I was lucky enough to see the Rolling Stones in Atlanta last Friday. 2 hours of non stop go. I was especially impressed by Keith. Sang three songs while Mick took a breather, funny dare I say cute, a regular showman. Amazing what sobriety and rehab can do . At 81 Keith and Mick and Ron are the ultimate pros. If anyone has a chance to see them I say go. Most shows the ticket prices are at face or below.
I have a 30 year old Scotty Cameron putter that I still use. I bought it at Hickory Woods for $150 with a gift certificate for winning a tournament there. Every so often I audition another putter but no putter has been a better coworker than the Scotty. I have been offered as much as $500 for it. Nope. Not going to let it go..